


The Cassandra Project

by apricotparker



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, enhanced!reader, future smut, ignoring the canon I don’t want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 11:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16240721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apricotparker/pseuds/apricotparker
Summary: The Avengers help an old friend of Bucky’s.





	The Cassandra Project

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fic I’m posting here! Hope it’s good, as I’ve had this idea for a while. Warnings for this fic, it’s angsty. There are descriptions of violence against the reader, so if you’re sensitive to that, this might not be for you!
> 
> come say hi on my tumblr! https://apricotparker.tumblr.com

The quinjet was near silent on the way back to the compound. The heavy quiet weighed on Bucky as he stared out the window, the landscape of Hungary disappearing below. His mind was lost in the failed mission Natasha was piloting them away from.

Another mission where apparent bad intelligence led to failure. Failure to apprehend the people who caused him nothing but pain and suffering for the past 70 years of his life. And to put the cherry on top, he was tired as hell.

Needless to say, Bucky wasn’t in a great mood.  
“Bucky?”

He bristled to attention when he felt Steve’s hand on his shoulder.

“What?” he spat out with much more force than intended. He winced a little, then mumbled out an apology.

Steve put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Sorry to startle you, pal. Just wanted to tell you we touch down in half an hour,” Steve took his seat next to Bucky, and began filling in paperwork.

Through dim blue light, Bucky could see he was filing a mission report. He let out a derisive snort.

“Problem, Buck?” Steve asked, glancing up from his paper.

“Not much use filling out a mission report,” he shrugged.

“Why do you say that?”

“Not much of a mission.”

Steve couldn’t argue with that. Silence settled back over the pair.

For the past few months, every mission the team had went on had failed.

No casualties and no injuries. The team was in as good a shape as they’d ever been. But every time they’d raided a HYDRA base, infiltrated a superpowered terrorist’s headquarters, or tried to do anything vaguely hero-like, they would find the place empty.

Giant warehouses, sketchy holes in the wall, and most recently, a villain worthy abandoned mansion in Hungary, completely and suspiciously abandoned.

The intelligence back channels Tony and FRIDAY monitored were extremely reliable until now, leading to successful operations, and ultimately, a safer world.

But this was a bigger issue than missing the bad guys by a few minutes. The Avengers weren’t called in for every run-of-the-mill crime, only the dangerous big picture missions. Discrepancies at this level meant big problems for the underground intelligence community.

A yawn ripped through Bucky as he pondered the situation, and he tiredly wiped at his eyes.  
Steve raised an eyebrow and set down his paperwork.

“You been having trouble sleepin’ again?” Steve asked. His tone was conversational, but his eyes betrayed a look of deep worry for his best friend, a look that Bucky had been seeing more and more often lately.

“It’s nothin’ Steve.”

“Nightmares?”

“Drop it, Stevie,” Bucky grumbled irritatedly.

“Buck, you know I don’t like to pry, but your therapist said you should talk about this kinda-“

“I said it’s nothing!” he snapped for the second time that night.

Steve bristled at this, the crease between his eyebrows getting deeper. Steve let an uncomfortable silence fall before speaking again.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”  
Bucky raised his eye to the cockpit’s ceiling and sighed heavily.

“You don’t gotta apologize, Steve,” he said, “I shouldn’t have yelled. I guess I really am tired. I’ve been having…” he trailed off.

Steve sat and waited for him to answer. He had been reminded in the past few minutes it was better to let Bucky open up on his own time.

“They’re not exactly like my nightmares. They’re more… fragmented. Just little pieces of memories that I can’t quite reach.”

“I thought Shuri helped you get back all your memories,” Steve looked confused.

“So did I. Everything that mattered, at least. And I thought maybe they were just dreams. But this feels important.”

He didn’t tell Steve that the memories take place in his old cell at HYDRA. He didn’t tell him how, for some reason, they felt like almost happy memories. He didn’t tell him that even though he couldn’t sleep after these dreams, they were a welcome replacement for the mind numbing nightmares.

And he definitely didn’t tell Steve how lonely and cold he felt when he woke up from the memories.  
But there was one detail he felt he had to share.

“Bucky? Is there something about these dreams you’re not telling me?”

Bucky looked up at Steve.

“Yeah. They started right after our missions started going bad.”

• • •

_The cell was as dark and depressing as he remembered. He knew this dream would be one where he wasn’t in control, he was stuck watching the action play out in front of him._

_The Soldier scanned his cell. A single bed in the center, a toilet off to the side. Gray cinder block, gray reinforced steel door, gray everything._

_Almost everything._

_“You’re back,” a voice croaked from the bed._

_He watched himself walk over to the bed and kneel down, his hand reaching out to touch the one in front of him._

_You winced and retracted your hand, drawing yourself further into your fetal position._

_“What’s wrong?” The Soldier examined your face, slight panic in his eyes._

_You shook your head at him._

_“Had a session while you were out. Couldn’t do what they asked. I’ll be ok. Just a little sore,” you reassured him, “Come lay down, I’ll scoot over.”_

_His jaw clenched at the mention of your sessions. It drove him crazy how you always came back bruised and broken, but he didn’t comment on it. He could do that later, when it wouldn’t just upset you more._

_“Are you ok?” you asked him, staring into his troubled eyes._

_“Good as I’ve been in the past few weeks. When missions are over I get to see my best girl,” he murmured._

_You smiled lightly._

_“We should sleep. Why don’t you tell more about this best girl of your’s when we-”_

• • •

“Wake up, Bucky,” Steve gently coaxed his friend awake.

Bucky’s eyes flew open, and he took note of his surroundings.

Quintjet. Not a tiny cell. And Steve. Not…

Someone he couldn’t quite place. Who are you?

“We’re back home, pal. Figured you didn’t want to sleep here all night.” Steve planted a hand on his shoulder, and his face grew concerned again.

“You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah. I just… nodded off for a bit,” Bucky shook his head clear.

Steve nodded, accepting the answer for the time being, and walked off the plane.

That was the most vivid dream he’d had yet, but it was already drifting from his mind, fragments of the memory drifting and distorting.

He shook his head again. No use trying to remember. He’d tried and failed every time with these dreams, and it only served to frustrate him to the point of sleeplessness.

The only thing Bucky wanted to do when he got out of the quintet was to crash in his bed and sleep for as long as he could manage, but Tony had other ideas.

“Hey, Barnes,” Tony called after Bucky, falling into step with him as they deplaned.

“What do you need, Tony?” Bucky brushed a hand over his face, stifling a yawn.

“Need you to come with me into the lab, Grandpa. Bruce and I need a little heart-to-heart.” He strode in front, leading the way.

Bucky had been staying at the Avenger’s Compound for about a year now. Out of all the important things he’d learned about living in the same building as Tony, it was that when he asked you to do something right after a mission, it was serious. Tony was normally the first person to crash after a mission, so Bucky chose to follow his request with no complaints.

The pleasantly lit hallways winded toward the center of the compound- a large, bustling lab filled with Tony’s suits and Bruce’s research equipment. But Bruce wasn’t doing his usual routine of research and writing- he was sitting awkwardly on a table, picking at his shirtsleeves and clearly waiting for Tony to arrive. Tony gave him a salutary nod, and reached in the mini fridge on the wall, pulling out a bag of grapes and popping a few in his mouth. He settled near Bruce before addressing Bucky again.

“So, here’s the sitch- we think HYDRA’s the reason we’ve been having shit luck with missions.”

Bucky stiffened at the mention of HYDRA. 

“We’re exploring the possibilities,” Bruce huffed lightly at Tony’s abruptness.

“But we need a little bit of… guidance.”

“Guidance? If I could’ve helped you, I would have already,” Bucky crossed his arms in front of him.  
“It’s just-“

“We think there’s something you’re not telling us, Man-Bun,” Tony interrupted, and threw some more grapes into his mouth.

Tony still didn’t trust Bucky. He respected him, he tolerated him, and he considered him an acquaintance, but he didn’t trust him. Bucky could tell, and the feeling was mostly mutual. But he resented being accused like this, so he chose to say nothing.

“I was talking to Grandpa Ice Pop on the Quinjet, and he said you’re remembering something.”  
Bucky raised his eyebrow at that.

“Steve,” Bruce translated.

“I’m running a bit low on mocking nicknames. Anyways, we need you to tell us. We need to figure this issue out,” Tony said.

“There’s nothin’ to tell, Stark. It’s nothing important. Just dreams,” Bucky flexed his hand, trying to curb his irritation.

Bruce sighed and took off his glasses, squeezing the bridge of his nose in a nervous manner.

“Is there anything you’re remembering from your time inside,” he said hesitantly, “anything that would explain people always being one step ahead of us?”

“No, I’m sorry Bruce.”

Bucky turned to walk out the door, but couldn’t help one last jab at Tony.

“Maybe next time instead of accusing me of withholding shit, Stark, you could take a look at that intel network of yours,” he remarked coldly.

“I trust our intelligence network,” Tony said, unperturbed.

“That same intelligence network that let HYDRA grow inside it for 70 years? Why the hell would you trust that,” Bucky spat out.

Tony rose up from his seat and set his grapes aside.

“Because it isn’t the same network. Because we ripped the diseased one to the ground. A cleansing fire in the forest, but this time we decide what grows,” Tony let some anger slip out into his words as he came toe to toe with Bucky.

They stared each other down for a moment, and then made a mutual unspoken decision to stand down. It was better for the team if they kept infighting as minimal as possible.

“Get some sleep, Tin Man. We’ll debrief in the morning.”

• • •

Bucky fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

_The Soldier found himself in the same dull gray cell, but this time an entirely different circumstance._

_He was lying flat on the bed, and you were the one kneeling next to him._

_He felt a stinging sensation in his right arm, and saw you stitching up a gash on his bicep._

_“At least they’re letting me stitch you up,” you pulled the last bit of thread through his arm and tied it off._

_“They’re the ones that gave me the cut in the first place,” he mumbled, not letting it show how much pain radiated through his arm and head._

_You remained silent and packed away the needle in the little first aid kit you kept under the cot._

_“Trying my best to look on the bright side here,” you huffed. He moved over to one side of the cot and you curled in next to him, putting your hand on his chest and throwing one leg over his lap._

_“How do you do that?” The Soldier asked you  
gently._

_“Do what?”_

_“Look on the bright side in this place? Not go crazy with all the shit they put you through.”_

_You paused, contemplating your answer._

_“This place is a goddamned nightmare. But it gave me you,” you mumbled into his chest._

_You both layed like that, wrapped up, when The Soldier made a decision._

_“Can I give you something?”_

_You looked up into his eyes._

_“Yeah, of course.”_

_He reached up to his neck and took off a chain, offering it to you._

_“Dog tags?” you questioned._

_“I think… I think they’re mine. I remember that man on the bridge calling me that name. Found them while I was being prepped for a mission._

_They saw me trying to take them, gave me that cut on my arm. But I got them.”_

_“Sergeant, huh?” you said, slipping the tags over your head and hiding them in your shirt._

_“Before… all of this, I think.”_

_“I like that. Sergeant-“_

• • •

“Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky sat up straight in bed, breathing heavily.  
“Sergeant Barnes?” FRIDAY’s lilting accent conveyed as much concern as a robot could.

“Don’t worry about it. What’s up, FRIDAY?”  
“Your presence is required immediately in Dr. Banner’s Laboratory.”

• • •

“So you tracked down our security issue?” Tony asked nonchalantly, popping a blueberry into his mouth. As nonchalant as he could manage, anyhow. His normally unbothered demeanor had an edge to it.

“Not… exactly,” Bruce stated, running his hands through salt-and-pepper hair.

His eyes rushed over the screens around him, and he began dragging video feeds together, matching with coordinates and time stamps, a complicated technical dance that only he knew the steps to.

“Not exactly? What the hell, Banner? I’m finally getting some goddamn sleep, and you drag the whole team outta bed at 3 am for ‘not exactly’?” Bucky barked from his perch on a table.

Steve elbowed him in the side, urging him to do something other than snap at their friend. Bruce had been tracking leads within accessible camera feeds and info files for weeks, and any breakthrough was worth hearing about.

“Why don’t you go grab some coffee, Buck? We’ll fill you in when you get back,” Steve nodded towards the door.

Bucky gave him a stony look, but Steve wouldn’t budge. He pushed away from the table and tromped through the lab’s glass doors.

Steve refocused on Bruce once Bucky was out of his eye line.

“So what do we have, Bruce?”

“The problem isn’t exactly what we thought it was. Look at this cam footage from just outside of Budapest this morning,” Bruce swiped his hand and instantly a grainy video projected itself around the room.

A nondescript black sedan weaved silently through the dark streets, and parked in front of a huge set of gates. As soon as the car parked in front of the house, what seemed to be men dressed in head-to-toe black filed in, and the car pulled off. In a few seconds, another black sedan pulled up, and more men filed in, and another car, and another, and a few more, until the Mansion was empty.

“Look at the time stamp.”

Another swipe of his hand.

“An hour before we touched down,” Natasha murmured.

Bruce nodded.

“Exactly. The place wasn’t empty, and it wasn’t bad intel. Someone tipped them off.”

A shaky glance was passed between the group. 

The Avengers had been especially weary of double agents and liars in their ranks after SHIELD fell. The screening process for agents was so intensive, it was nearly impossible for anyone untrustworthy to get in.

Tony tilted his head to the side and leaned closer into the video, paying closer attention to the last car to leave the site.

“Wait, hold on, FRIDAY. Roll the feed back ten seconds… yeah, stop right there. Now run facial recognition on the two visible faces.”

The two faces visible were vastly different. A man with a scarred, brutish face dragged a young woman towards the car. Her lip was swollen, her eye was bruised and blackened, and she seemed to be wearing a makeshift sling.

FRIDAY first focused on the man in the photo, his face enlarging, and a digital file appeared next to him, along with a mugshot.

A look of recognition passed over Steve’s face.

“That’s Elias Bronner. He worked as Rumlow’s right hand man on the SHIELD Strike Team,” he said, “I thought he died when the Helicarriers crashed into the Potomac.”

“So it’s him then,” Tony said.

Steve shook his head, unsatisfied with that explanation.

“Bronner was a glorified errand boy, and even stupider than he looked, if that’s possible. He can’t have infiltrated our intelligence.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t think it’s Bronner,” Bruce interjected.

Another swipe of his hand, and FRIDAY enlarged the other face.

“What, the girl? She looks half-dead,” Tony remarked.

“Dr. Banner,” Friday’s inanimate voice filled the room, “We have something in the Triskelion archives matching her identity. Would you like me to pull it up?”

He readily agreed, and a picture of the girl, younger, and less bloodied, appeared next to a slew of information.

“I recognize those files,” Natasha furrowed her eyebrows, “Wanda and Pietro tipped us off on some rumors they heard while they were in experimentation. It was just whispers, but we looked into these.”

“Whispers?” Tony perked up.

“A pet project from the guy who turned those two into the Wonder Twins. Called it The Cassandra Project. Used injections and torture to give her visions and psychic powers.”

“And it worked?” Steve asked.

“It must have. The files were too corrupted to sift through. I figured it was just a red herring. Just a ghost story to keep anyone who found them on the wrong path,” Natasha said, staring at the photo of the girl.

“The twins called her-“

The sound of ceramic shattering startled the group into turning towards the door. Bucky had re-entered, but now stood completely still amongst the broken remains of his coffee mug, staring at the picture in front of him.

All was silent as Bucky moved towards the blue tinged holographic image, raising his hand towards it, almost as if to touch the girl in the image.

“Prophet,” he breathed out shakily.

“They called her Prophet.”


End file.
